Black & Blue
by supercommpromises
Summary: Mike knows when to keep his mouth shut, but not when it comes to El. After he gets the crap beaten out of him, she decides to try and make him feel better. (Shameless smut, dirty talk)


**_AN:_**

 ** _This is dedicated to Jenna, who listens to me at two in the morning when I should be sleeping and inspires me in so many ways. You're the best._**

* * *

Mike clenched his fists, trying to take a deep breath and not listen. It was just locker room talk, total garbage, just horny teenage boys spouting off at the mouth. He shouldn't care. He didn't have to. But it was impossible, especially when they said her _name_.

"That Byers girl though, now she has some legs… what's her name?"

"Elle, I think."

They were two rows of lockers away but it was Anthony Miller. Big, meaty and stupid, the star defensive end of the football team. His tiny brain could only handle so much, focusing on two things: destroying the opposing team's quarterback, and fucking as many of the girls at Hawkins High School as possible.

He was loud and obnoxious and crude, moving on to a different girl every couple of weeks. Not that he slept with all of them, it was all just fantasy, but he had no problem describing those fantasies as lewdly and disgustingly as possible while changing in the locker room. Where everyone could hear.

No one usually said anything to him. There was no point, it would just end up with you getting your ass totally beat or teased for being "queer". And usually it was easy enough to ignore… but not this time.

"She's kind of quiet, huh?" A chuckle. "Bet she's totally freaky in the sack. I bet she's a screamer."

"And she's got those lips…"

"Bet they'd look great wrapped around my dick, huh?"

Mike slammed the door to his locker, shoulders tense, taking a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, it's not like Anthony would ever actually even talk to El. She didn't put up with that kind of shit and he knew it. She was more badass than he was. There was no reason to get upset.

"Did you see the skirt she was wearing today?"

"Nah, man, I don't have any classes with her."

A whistle. "A shame, it was a little white thing that showed off those legs… I'd love to spread them open and dive right in."

"You think she's a virgin?"

 _Not even close,_ Mike snorted to himself.

"I think she's dating someone but I don't remember who."

"Doesn't matter," Anthony sounded almost entertained. "I'd still bend her over the nearest desk and fuck that tight pussy until she screamed my name—"

It was too much and Mike couldn't take another second, snatching his backpack and turning the corner, face twisted into a snarl.

"Would you shut the fuck up, Anthony?!" he growled. "Some of us have actual respect for women."

The lineman turned, looking confused, as if the concept of being told to shut up was too difficult to understand. Or maybe the fact that someone was contradicting him at all. He chuckled, his meaty throat gurgling.

"What do you care, Wheeler?"

"That's my fucking girlfriend you're talking about!" Mike growled.

Anthony blinked his piggy eyes and then a smug grin crossed his face. His friend, some other football player Mike couldn't name, and everyone around them turned to watch, wondering who was stupid enough to challenge Anthony.

"Haha, you're right. I am talking about fucking your girlfriend," he licked his lips. "So is she actually a screamer? The quiet ones always are."

"None of your goddamn business!"

"Aw, come on, Wheeler. If you're getting some of that sweet pussy the least you could is tell me if it's any good," he leaned in close. "Or maybe I'll have to just try it myself."

"Shut your fucking meathole, you brainless wastoid piece of shit!"

Mike's face was red, the rage blinding him to the precariousness of the situation. He didn't see the fist until it collided with his stomach and he stumbled back as Anthony hit him right in the gut. It _hurt_.

"Should've just been nice, Wheeler," Anthony sneered. "I don't mind sharing, it's just a piece of ass. What's your problem?" He leaned in, breath foul. "Afraid she'll like my dick better than your little prick? Afraid I'll make her scream louder than you? That after I blast my load all over her face she'll—"

The last thing Mike ever expected to be doing in his life was throwing a punch at a defensive lineman in the locker room. But as his fist connected with Anthony's jaw he watched in slow motion, feeling the pain travel up his wrist but not caring. The bigger teenage boy staggered a bit, not really hurt but taken by surprise and then he turned, eyes flaring and Mike realized just how screwed he was. Extremely screwed, painfully screwed.

But as the fists pummeled him and the feet kicked him he thought about El's smiling face and decided it could be worse.

Later, when she saw his face, she didn't agree.

"Who _did_ this?!" She screeched, completely livid. "Was it Troy again? I'll break his leg this time, both of them—"

"El, it wasn't—" he winced as she dabbed at his split lip, "It wasn't Troy."

"Then who was it? I'll rip him in fucking half!"

She was trying to bandage him up, but she was so angry and upset she was just kind of hurting him more and he pulled back, wincing away. With a sigh she set down the washcloth, realizing what she was doing.

"Sorry, Mike, I just want to know what happened. Why won't you tell me?"

"Because it's… I just don't want you to know, okay?" He sighed and turned away. "I love you and I want to tell you everything… but I don't want to tell you this one. Not right now."

Her eyes were burning holes into him but then she sighed, reaching out and dabbing him much more gently. She could tell that whatever it was he wasn't ready to talk about it yet and she didn't want to force him. Maybe tomorrow… when he was less embarrassed. She was determined to find out and get revenge for whoever had hurt her boyfriend.

"Mouthbreathers?" she offered, a compromise to not ask more yet.

He smiled, but winced. "Mouthbreathers," he agreed.

The next day she was at her locker, swapping out books for her next class when she heard a shout and someone hit the locker next to her with a thump.

"El!" Max's eyes were huge. "Have you heard the shit that Anthony Miller has been saying about you?" She frowned. "No, of course not, otherwise he'd be in a coma…"

"What?"

"Anthony Miller," Max repeated.

"Who?"

"He's on the football team, huge guy with like five necks and no brain?"

"Um," that described a lot of them. "Sure. What's he been saying?"

Max looked around. The hallway was bustling and she lowered her voice.

"He's been talking about how much he wants to bang you… like bragging that he's going to so if he sees you he might—"

"Wait, what?"

El wanted to pretend like she hadn't heard what Max had said, but she did and she immediately grimaced. And then she froze. A giant guy had been spreading rumors about screwing her and Mike had ended up getting the shit kicked out of him. She straightened up, eyes narrowing, and turned to look at Max.

"When?"

"What?"

"When did he say that?"

Max frowned. "Probably in the locker room… after gym class. It's like where guys talk about all that nasty stuff I don't know why—"

"When?" she asked again and Max understood what she was asking

"Uh…" she checked her watch. "I think he has the class now actually—"

El didn't wait for her to finish, shoving her books back into her locker and turning on her heel, heading for the gym. She ignored Max behind her and decided be late to one algebra class wouldn't kill her, heading straight for the boy's locker room, her sneakers squeaking on the hallway floor.

She knew she wasn't allowed inside but that wasn't about to stop her. Mike was in there anyways, and she wanted to see him, wanted to ask him if he had been hurt because he'd fought for her or not. And Anthony Miller was in there too, and she had a score to settle with him.

The locker room was full of mostly senior class guys, all in various stages of undressing. But she didn't even glance their way, ignoring the yelps and shouts and sudden confusion, eyes scanning for the familiar tall, moppy haired boy that made her heart flutter.

"Hey," a rough hand grabbed her shoulder, "aren't you Elle Byers?"

She turned, scowling, to face a tall meathead with three chins and small, piggy eyes who was licking his lips hungrily as he looked her up and down. Oh, this must be Anthony Miller. But she wanted to make sure.

"Who the fuck are you?" she hissed.

"El?" Someone behind her said.

That voice she knew, and she turned to see Mike, his eyes huge, coming from around the end of the row of lockers. His eye had blackened overnight, his lip and knuckles swollen and bruised. But it was the look of confusion and utter devastation on his face that made her heart drop. She realized how it must look, the same idiot who had been talking about fucking her was holding the shoulder, standing in the middle of the boy's locker room. It definitely didn't look good.

She shoved away from Anthony, trying to walk past him to her forlorn boyfriend.

"Mike—"

"Hey, I was talking to you," the asshole interrupted, grabbing her wrist so hard it felt like it would bruise.

"Get your disgusting hands off of me," she snarled, throwing his meaty paws off of her shoulder, the disgust evident on her face.

"Aw, come on, you can't really be satisfied with Wheeler." Anthony leaned in and she stepped back against the wall. "Aren't you hungry for some real _meat_?" His hand ghosted against the back of her thigh, his face leaning in even closer, voice lowering. "I'll fuck you right here against his wall, right in front of your precious _boyfriend_ ," he growled.

She felt anger bubble up, white-hot, looking over his shoulder at Mike, still stricken, and then back to Anthony's disgusting face. He shifted back, licking his lips again, as his hand moved higher up the back of her thigh. Everything he was doing was a mistake, but moving back allowed her enough space to wind her arm back and then she narrowed her eyes, focusing, putting the force of her powers behind her fist as she smashed it into his face.

He bellowed and reeled back, reaching for his nose and she quickly scampered away, away from the meathead and the staring boys, her eyes on one face.

"Mike," she breathed, throwing herself into his arms.

Her hand hurt but she ignored it, the adrenaline pushing the pain away as she felt his arms surround her and grip her tightly, pulling her to him. She buried her face in his shirt and took a deep breath, trying to get the creep's words out of her mind. Nothing disgusted her more than the idea of having sex with Anthony. He was disgusting in every way and her body crawled.

No, the only person she ever wanted to sex with was Mike. Ever. She was currently in a room full of throbbing teenage boys but her mind was only her boyfriend and she felt sudden desire well up.

He'd fought for her. His bruises were proof of that and more than anything she wanted to show him how much she appreciated him. She pulled his lips to her, closing her eyes. There were hoots and catcalls from around them and she came back to reality, looking around the room and suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Come on," she murmured, leading him out of the locker room.

The place erupted.

"Woohoo, Wheeler!"

"Damn!"

"Get it!"

There were cruder shouts but they ignored them, only having eyes for each other as they fled. She pulled him into the hallway, looking around and spotting a supply closet next to the door to the locker room. It was small but would have to do and she wasted no time, nearly busting the door down before shoving him inside and locking it behind them.

"El?"

"Mike," she felt herself getting wet just looking at him. "You're the best person in the entire world and…" she reached out, touching the bruise. "Are these because of me? Because of what that guy said?"

He sighed. "Yeah…"

"Did you fight him?"

"Yeah, but I didn't do as well as you—"

Her lips were on his again and she tried not brush against his split lip, hands reaching for his shirt and then his pants. There was a chair in the corner, the arms broken off, and she pushed him down onto it, looking down at him and biting her lip.

"He said such disgusting stuff, El," his eyes were thick with lust, "I couldn't help it. He was talking about fucking you and making you suck his—"

"Shhh," she reached for his zipper. "It won't ever happen."

She reached into jeans, wrapping her fingers around him and pumping twice. He was already hard and he groaned as she licked her lips, looking down and then pulling him out of his pants, too eager. She got down onto her knees in front of him, spreading his legs apart and kneeling between them.

"I would never suck his dick, Mike," she looked up at him, smirking, "my lips are only for you."

"El," his eyes softened.

He groaned as she took him into her mouth, her tongue rubbing up and down the underside of his dick, breathing through her nose. She wanted to make him feel good and she bobbed, going down as far as possible, wanting to take it all. Despite what Anthony thought, Mike was definitely not… small. She loved it most of the time but right now she was hoping she would be able to make him feel good despite how small her mouth was.

She looked up, their eyes meeting, and she appreciated how his mouth gaped open, his eyes squinted up as he panted. She smiled, her lips still around his throbbing member as they curved upward, and he groaned, the sight almost too much to bear. Her tongue swirled and she pulled back, sucking hard watching as his eyes squeezed all the way shut.

"El," he panted. "El, I'm gonna—"

She pulled off of him before he could finish, literally, and he almost looked disappointed. Her mouth quirked up, and she stood up, reaching under her skirt to shimmy her panties down her legs, stepping out of them and leaving them on the floor.

"He said he wanted to fuck me against the wall," she said as she moved over him, "but I would rather get fucked by a cactus."

"He said worse than that, El."

"He was full of shit."

She reached down, lining him up and lowering herself slowly, taking in just his swollen tip, letting a gasp leave her throat. It was all she wanted and she was almost dripping onto him, the anticipation too much to bear. But she wanted him to know.

"You're the only one, Mike," she kissed him again. "You're the only one I've ever let in. I only ever want your dick in me, I only want you to fuck me."

"El," he sounded strained. "El, please."

She dropped into his lap, taking him in all at once and listening to him as he groaned. He filled her all the way, stretching her in the most exquisite way, and making her breath catch in her throat. His hands found her hips.

"El, you're mine."

"I'm yours, Mike," she whimpered, "my heart is yours. My body is yours."

"Mine," he groaned again.

Her hips moved, back and forth, grinding him deeply into her. He tried to kiss her neck and throat but his lip was swollen and he flinched, just pressing his face against her skin instead, nuzzling her and breathing her in. Her body _was_ tight and he grinned, knowing Anthony would never get to know that. Because she was his.

She started to swirl her hips in slow, lazy circles, throwing her head back and moaning, wanting him to hear her. He deserved to know how good he made her feel and she didn't hold back.

"He guessed you were a screamer," Mike grinned. "I guess he was right about that, huh?"

She didn't want to hear about what Anthony had said anymore. It was irrelevant and disgusting and all she wanted to think about was Mike how amazing he felt inside of her.

"Just fuck me, Mike!"

He used his grip to bounce her, encouraging her with a grunt.

"Mike," she keened. "Mike, please. Fuck me harder."

"Mmm, El, you feel so good."

"Only for you."

She was riding him now, hard, so hard each thrust made her cry out. But it felt so amazing and she dug her nails into his shoulders as his hands grabbed her ass, squeezing roughly and then moved up front to her breasts, squeezing them just as hard and making her lose her rhythm. It felt too good and she just wanted him to fuck her and lose control.

"Mike I'm—" she was panting, "I want you to fucking pound me."

He pulled her off of his dick, standing up and moving her across the room, where there was a counter. Her hips met the edge and then he pushing her down over it, penetrating her from behind, his favorite position, listening to her groan as he filled her all the way again. The angle was better and he exhaled as he hilted all the way inside of her. Damn.

There was vent above where they were that went directly to the locker room but he didn't notice, too lost in the feeling of being inside of her warm, wet walls.

"You're like the tightest fucking thing," he gasped. "And all mine."

"Yours," she repeated, bucking her hips back against him.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk," he grunted as he pumped his hips once, "so everyone knows whose dick you belong to."

"Pound me," she begged. "Fuck me, Mike. I want it, please."

The dirty talk was more than usual, having heard someone else talk that way about her made him appreciate hearing it from her and he did as she asked, pulling out and then slamming into her, making her shriek.

"Mike!"

He pounded into her, not holding back, wanting to give her his all. And it felt so good, he couldn't have stopped if he wanted to.

"Harder! Mike, harder!"

It was getting difficult to focus, her walls clenching, her body jolting with each thrust, her keening and moaning filling the air and drifting through the vent above them. He could feel his climax building, but he wanted her to get there first.

"El, are you—"

"It's almost—" her back arched down and her hips lifted up. "Oh, oh oh oh, _Mike_. Mike, Mike, _Mike!_ "

His name was the only word on her tongue and he felt himself giving in as her entire body tightened, her thighs squeezing together, his dick almost pulled even further in her muscles clenched so hard it almost squeezed the cum right out of him then and there. She screamed out his name one last time and then fell completely limp onto the counter in front of her, still jolting as he thrusted into her but totally spent.

It was an actual miracle he hadn't finished yet and the second she came back to reality she whipped her head around, face flushed, eyes dilated.

"Mike, cum inside of me, please," she begged. "I want your cum in me, please, cum inside of me I want you to fill me."

"El," he gasped her words pushing him over the edge.

"Mike!"

Her voice was so sweet and her pussy was so tight and he exploded as she twitched and cried out his name, spurting deeply into her like she'd begged him to, the cum leaking out of her and around his dick. He was pretty sure he'd never had that much come out before but he didn't really notice, too busy trying to catch his breath.

She was doing the same beneath him, panting, still mostly dressed, like it was just any other school day, but with his dick still deep inside of her. It was hot in the closet and she shifted beneath him.

"That was fucking amazing," he gasped.

"I know," she agreed. "Why are there guys who think they could do better than you?" she scoffed. "Totally stupid. Your dick is perfect."

"Really?" He was smiling, liking what she was saying.

"I told you, you're the only one I'm ever going to let bend me over things and pound me. Or hold me against walls and pound me," she smirked. "I really like it when you pound me."

"I noticed."

He finally pulled out of her, tugging his underwear and pants back up and then reaching down to pick up her panties off the floor. She turned around and smiled sweetly as she pulled them back on, letting him watch as lifted her skirt and shimmied them back up her hips. He liked when she let him watch her get dressed. Or undressed.

"You're the only I'm going ever let fuck me in a closet during fifth period," she teased as she brushed her skirt back down. "That one is a promise."

"God, I love you," he breathed, reaching for her again. "You're seriously the best."

"Max told me what… that guy had been saying and I realized why you were all beat up," she let him pull her close. "I was so mad I came to… I don't even know why I went in there, I just had to see you and and if I saw him I wanted to kick his ass."

"You did, El," Mike was grinning again. "He's never going to live down getting punched by a girl in the locker room. I doubt he's going to talk shit like that again."

She looked down at her hand, he one she'd punched Anthony with and grimaced, feeling how achey and sore it was. The knuckles were already starting to turn a slight purple and she sighed, knowing it was going to hurt like a bitch for the next week… she had punched him pretty damn hard.

"Thanks for cheering me up though," he said, voice softer. "I wasn't expecting that really but I'm not going to complain if you ever decide to drag me out of another class and fuck me in a closet."

He smiled and his hand reached for hers, gently intertwining their fingers, his bruises matching hers. She smiled and tilted her head up to kiss him again, their kisses much more gentle than what had just taken place. When he pulled back he sighed, feeling content with her in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I should get to class," she mumbled, "and you should do too."

"But I just want to stand here and hold you," he complained.

"As nice as that would be… this place is kind of gross and I don't want you to get in trouble if Coach Perry notices your gone."

"What about you? What are you missing?"

"Algebra," she snorted. "Rothchild won't even noticed I'm gone."

He groaned, knowing she was right. He didn't really want to go back into the locker room but the Coach was one of the few people who cared about attendance and he knew he'd get a phone call home if he skipped. Again. He didn't love gym class.

"Why do you always have to be right?" he huffed.

"Because I'm your girlfriend," she told him with a smirk.

He kissed her again, letting his hand slide down her back and squeeze her ass, making her squeak in surprise. But she looked up at him and smiled, shaking her head and then laughing as he let both hands move down and firmly grab her.

"Why do you always grab my ass when we kiss?"

"Because I'm your boyfriend," he smiled crookedly. "And you're all mine."

There were another quick couple of heated kisses and then El pulled back again, walking towards the door and leading him, knowing he would stand there and kiss her all day if she let him. Which would be nice but they were still in school and needed to be responsible and also someone was going to check that closet sooner than later and it wouldn't be smart to get caught.

Outside of the locker room she gave him another goodbye kiss before sneaking down the hallway, glancing around for any people of authority that might get her in trouble and shooting him a knowing smile before turning the corner.

He felt his heart leap, already missing her, but sighed and turned back to the locker room, knowing it wouldn't help to put off the inevitable. At least Anthony would have keep off of him now that he'd been shown up in front of more than half of the senior boys. If he tried to start something the others wouldn't let him… he'd had his ass handed to him by a girl.

He pushed the door open and was met with an eruption of cheers, blinking in surprise as pretty much every single guy turned to him, giving him thumbs ups and smiles and clapping, looking smug.

What the fuck?

"Way to get it, Wheeler!" Someone shouted. "Sounded like she had a good time."

"Is she always that loud?"

"Oh, _Mike_ , fuck me!" someone else imitated in high falsetto. "Pound me, Mike!"

Mike felt his face turn bright red, adam's apple bobbing as he tried to think of a response. How the _hell_ did they know? The walls in the school were concrete brick, the sound didn't carry that well…

He walked up to Harvey, one of his acquaintances that he wasn't really friends with but knew wasn't a total dick.

"What—How do they know?" He asked, eyes huge.

Harvey snickered. "See that vent?" he pointed, "yeah it kind of directly connects to the closet you and El just… um," he snickered again but had the decency not to be crude.

Mike wanted to die, walking back to his locker and quickly changing into his gym clothes, trying to ignore the looks. The taunts faded, but as guys passed him to head out to the gym, they slapped him on the back and smiled, nodding their heads. He blinked, not expecting the emotion he saw in their eyes.

Respect?

He just felt embarrassed, and a little mad that they had heard. What was El going to think? Knowing that a good portion of her male classmates now knew what she sounded like while she was being totally fucked? He swallowed nervously, hoping she wouldn't be pissed.

"Wheeler."

His blood turned to ice as he turned and faced Anthony. The jock's nose was bloody, his left eye red and starting to swell, looking at Mike up and down, assessing him. Was he going to beat Mike into a pulp? Again?

But then he smiled, his grin crooked.

"Good job, man."

"Oh, um, thanks."

"If I'd known she was that… I didn't realize," he shrugged, not actually going to apologize but obviously feeling some sort of… remorse. "She's got a wicked good punch."

"Yeah, she's, um, pretty great." Understatement of the century.

There wasn't anything more to say and Anthony walked past him and out of the door without another word, leaving Mike feeling a bit dazed. He still wanted to feel embarrassed but a bigger part of him was suddenly stupidly happy.

El was definitely his and now everyone knew. And they respected that. Because she'd let him fuck her senseless in a closet at school. Because she was amazing and perfect and beautiful and fuck he loved her so much.

He grinned, like the lovestruck idiot he knew he was, and then headed out into the gym.

* * *

 ** _AN:_**

 ** _I'm not sure what that was but I hoped you like it. Let me know if you want more one shots, I haven't done a whole lot in a while but I like reading what you all have to say._**

 ** _~Wyn_**


End file.
